Easter 2015

On this day one year ago, our lives changed forever, once again. On April 5, 2014 we learned we were pregnant, once again. We would either be blessed with the opportunity to bring a baby home this time or we would have another baby die. We knew we had nine long months ahead of us and we didn't know how or if we would survive. The overwhelming joy, shadowed with the ever present doubt filled our days and kept us awake many sleepless nights. We were being given a second chance, a second chance to be parents to a living baby, God willing. And so we hoped, and we wished, and we prayed. And of course, we couldn't help, but dare to dream. 

And here we are, 365 days later, Easter Sunday 2015, with the most beautiful rainbow baby in the world, alive and well in our arms. One little faint pink line turned into precious Iris St. Clair. A little girl adored with every ounce of love we have in our hearts. A little girl so hoped for, wished for, prayed for... That maybe wouldn't be here if we hadn't been forced to send you to Heaven baby Stella. How could that be? This time last year, the pain was so fresh, so raw. But with the news of being pregnant again, a tiny, yet enormous ray of hope had just been reignited in our hearts.

Today was a special day for many reasons. Iris was blessed in the church I was baptized in when I was 8 years old by my Papa, her Papa-Papa. Then we took her to visit her big sissy's grave. Bittersweet was an understatement. Taking your second daughter to meet your first daughter, at a cemetery. Something about that will never be right. Though we know they've met before, because we know Stella sent Iris down the rainbow to us, straight from Heaven. We haven't been back to Kansas since Stella's funeral, so we haven't been able to visit her grave since the weekend we buried her. Crazy to think I actually looked forward to bringing our first baby home to Kansas to visit Stella's grave, but I did. Because I certainly didn't want to come back without a baby. 

It's hard to believe tomorrow Iris will be 5 months old and Stella would have been 17 months old. Our baby girls have changed our lives, many times over. Through good memories and sad, they  make us who we are. We wouldn't change our journey for anything in this world. We feel blessed and thankful to be their mom and dad.

Happy Easter from Stella and Iris.

I still miss you

My heart has been a little heavy and unsettled the last couple days… and I think I finally figured out why. I miss you. Still. So much. Don't get me wrong, I've never stopped missing you. And trust me, by the grace of God and you, baby Iris is truly healing our hearts. But sometimes it still hurts, like the pain is brand new.

I guess I've identified a few possible reasons for this current ache in my heart. The last two nights we have decided to put baby Iris to sleep in her crib, alone in her nursery, for the very first time since we brought her home. That's right, for 4.5 months of her life, she has lived and slept no more than a few feet away from my bedside. Right where I could see her, touch her, smell her and be there to hold and comfort her in an instant. Or better yet, to comfort me in an instant. She has been right where I needed her to be. Last night after feeding baby Iris at 2am, I sat in the rocker in her room (your room) and rocked her, staring at her beautiful face, sleeping peacefully. And this overwhelming feeling of adoration, unconditional love, and heartbreaking loss washed over me. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. But I missed you. Here I was, holding and rocking my precious baby girl back to sleep. And I realized I had dreamed of this day for over 2 years. Then I laid her back down in her crib (your crib) and once again found myself standing there, staring. My heart aching with love, and again loss. How many times in the last 2 years have I stood at the edge of that crib and dreamed of the day my baby girl would be sleeping in it. More than my heart cares to count. Needless to say, I love baby Iris more than I've ever loved anything in my life, besides you of course. So, on we go experiencing her "firsts" without you, while holding you close to our hearts.

Yesterday, baby Iris also got to meet her Aunt Audrey for the first time. And I swear it's like she knew how special and important Audrey was to me during this last year after losing you…because, when your sister saw Audrey for the first time, she smiled and smiled and even giggled. And while Iris is getting more and more personality each day, she doesn't smile and giggle for just anyone, especially someone she has never met. Thanks to you, she knows her Aunt Audrey, I know she does. And while it's tough to see Andy and Audrey and the twins, because it brings last year's difficult memories flooding back, it's not anywhere near as painful. This year looks like last year was supposed to. But we're still missing you.

It's been a busy couple days on my heart. But thank you for the gift of your baby sister, and giving us the strength we need each and everyday, baby Stella. We would never be where we are without you shining over us.

Merry Christmas in Heaven

Hope you are enjoying your 2nd Christmas in Heaven sweet baby Stella. We miss you more than you'll ever know here on earth. But, thank you for making this Christmas drastically better than last. Thank you for letting us enjoy 7 week old baby Iris and her 1st Christmas today. Tell God thank you for giving his only Son so we can enjoy life here on earth, while knowing we're promised to get to spend eternity in Heaven with you.

Keep shining bright baby girl!

Grandma Julie, Grandpa Bill, Uncle Tyler & Aunt Taryne visited your grave today Miss Stella.

7 week old Iris dolled up for Christmas! 

Stella's ring and necklace…and our precious rainbow baby. Perfect Christmas.

You're still missing

Well, it's Christmas time again…and this year it's Iris's first Christmas. We get the joy of having our baby girl to celebrate this special time of year with. But, it's also the first Christmas we are choosing to celebrate since you've been gone baby Stella. You're still missing. And it still hurts.

Don't get me wrong, we are feeling beyond blessed and excited for this Christmas with baby Iris. We will cherish every moment and every memory we get to create this year. But, it's not just "all better." Our hearts are not just all healed. There is still a Stella sized hole in our hearts. Our first baby girl is still missing. And this time last year, we were in the depths of the ugliest days of our lives. How can those horrible memories not come rushing to the surface? Well they did. They did when we put up our Christmas tree this week. We didn't put our tree up last year, so this was another "first" without Stella. Seeing all the ornaments from all the happy, fun times in our lives. The innocence of another lifetime ago. It hit pretty hard, that while life is pretty damn good this year, Stella's still missing.

How do we balance the joy of Iris's first Christmas with the heartache we still feel missing Stella? Very carefully, I suppose. We don't want to be those creepy weird people that add Stella's picture to our Christmas card, or sign her name to it…or do we? Do we hang a stocking for her? Or do we just realize she's not here and never will be? It's a lot to figure out…what's wrong, what's right? How do we honor her and not act like we're moving on without her, but still keep our sanity? We are working to realize that baby Stella is still very much here, though not physically. She shows us her presence daily. She shines her bright star upon us. So, we put up her star tree and we took her sister's picture next to it. We'll seal our Christmas cards with a star sticker. We'll do the little things that mean something to us and tell baby Stella how much we love her, how much we miss her, and that we always will. Though Iris is truly healing our hearts, they will never be completely whole again. And that's ok, because that's our life and we still wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

The night after we put up our regular Christmas tree, after the pain and sadness really hit me again… we gave baby Iris a bath. And before her bath, we weighed her. She weighed 6 lbs, 11 oz. Exactly what you weighed when you were born, baby Stella. Daddy said he thought Iris's weight felt familiar ;) Thank you again baby girls, for giving us exactly what we need, exactly when we need it.

Baby Iris next to Stella's star tree

Baby Iris helping daddy put the *star* on our regular tree

Stella's 1st Birthday & Iris is BORN!!

By the grace of God, our rainbow baby, Iris St. Clair was born on November 6th, 2014 at 2:04 P.M. by repeat c-section. She was 34 weeks and 3 days. Iris weighed 4 lbs, 12 oz., and was 17.5 inches long.

Yes, Iris was born on her big sister's birthday. Exactly one year after we lost our sweet angel baby Stella and our lives came crashing down, our perfect rainbow baby was born and our lives almost feel put back together.

We were admitted to the hospital on Thursday, October 30th because of some blood work that came back elevated. It was serious enough, they were pondering delivering Iris that night, at 33 weeks and 3 days. The fear was overwhelming. We couldn't help but think we were going to lose this baby girl too. I received 2 sets of steroid shots over a 48 hour period to help mature baby girl's lungs in case it was time for her to make her appearance into this world. We anxiously and nervously hung out in the hospital for a week, getting blood tests and ultrasounds and hooked up to the heart rate monitor to watch over baby girl. Actually, anxious and nervous don't even begin to explain the real emotions of that long week. We listened to Iris's heartbeat 24 hours a day, for 7 days. Worrying and waiting. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for her precious heart to just stop beating for no reason. Waiting for our past to repeat itself, as a horrible outcome is all we knew. The new goal was to make it to 36 weeks, which would be November 17th. Stella's original due date. Wow, again.

On the afternoon of November 5th, Mark and I talked about how difficult and heartwrenching it was that we were going to be in the hospital on Stella's first birthday. Not only the hospital, the same hospital, on the same floor, just down the hall from where we delivered Stella. How would we feel? What would we do? To honor Stella? To celebrate Stella? To undoubtedly grieve for all that was still lost, one whole year later.

On the evening of November 5th, the doctors finally decided it was time. Iris was trying to find a way to get out into the world. So there it was, Iris would be born on November 6th. She would officially share a birthday with her angel sister Stella. We know this was not a coincidence. This was the work of a much higher power, no doubt God and baby Stella. Baby Stella did not want us to be sad on her birthday, she did not want us to feel empty and confused at how to honor her. She wanted her birthday to be a day of joy, peace, and true celebration. Stella wanted her first birthday, in Heaven, to be the best day of our lives.

So midday on November 6th, we walked into the exact same operating room where we delivered Stella. And my dream of laying on that operating table again, having them cut me open, and take out a living, crying baby…finally came true. Finally and perfectly. Our rainbow was here.

Iris went from being scheduled to arrive on November 25th- the day we buried Stella, to November 17th- Stella's original due date, to actually making her appearance….ON STELLA'S 1ST BIRTHDAY.  Try and tell me this wasn't baby Stella's doing…

And now it is the 6th of the month once again. And for the first time in a year, I am not meeting this day with dread, but with a blessed and happy heart. Thank you baby Stella. Today I get to finally take that long awaited picture of our daughter with her "1 month sticker" on her onesie. It's not Stella's one month birthday, but it is her little sisters, Iris.

IRIS- means "rainbow" in Greek. Iris was a Greek goddess that rode a rainbow delivering messages between Heaven and Earth. It also means "bringer of joy." We wholeheartedly agree.

Happy 13 Months in Heaven baby Stella, keeping shining bright little star. And Happy 1 Month on Earth baby Iris, our precious rainbow at the end of the darkest, most devastating storm.

One month left

One month left. Can I keep this baby alive for one more month? Doesn't seem like very long. Sounds easy enough. Or will my body fail me yet again? It did fail me once already, just 11 short days from your due date baby Stella. So, even though 31 days doesn't sound like much and we are in the home stretch…I can't help but have my doubts.

Sure, we are having more monitoring this time. We go to the doctor twice a week for non-stress tests (NST) where they monitor baby girl's heart rate and movements for about 30 minutes. She has been passing with flying colors so far. Keep it up baby girl! However, it's still hard to believe that this "extra monitoring" will really guarantee baby girls safe arrival, because after all, we were at the doctors THE DAY BEFORE last time. The day before Stella died, I was being "monitored" at the doctors, and what do you know... they were too dumb to see the signs and save her. So, in other words, NOTHING will make me feel safe or truly believe this is going to work out the way it should, the way it does for all the innocent pregnant people in the world….until baby girl is here ALIVE.

While I'm looking forward to the month of November, I'm also dreading it. I'm dreading that in 12 short  days our precious baby Stella will have been gone for a year. An entire year. How can that possibly be? What will we do to honor and celebrate you baby girl? Nothing seems even remotely good enough. We should be planning your first birthday party. Instead we are planning on how to survive such a heartbreaking day, while somehow honoring you and keeping your sweet memory alive. We do have your memorial golf tournament coming up November 22nd. Just 3 days before your baby sister's scheduled birthdate. Though horribly depressing, it should be a fun event, for a good cause.

31 more days. Can we survive? Can baby girl survive? Dear God and baby Stella, please give us the peace, strength, and courage to make it 31 more days.

11 months

11 months since we first said hello and goodbye to you baby Stella, our angel baby.

30 weeks pregnant with what better be our rainbow baby.

50 days left until our life changes all over again. For the better this time.

Keep shining bright for us, our little star. We will miss you and love you until the end of time.

Changing the nursery

It's been a rough week. We decided to redo your nursery, baby Stella, to get ready for your baby sister. Even as I type it…it sounds silly. Get ready for your baby sister? Aren't we already ready? Didn't we just do this? For you? The answer is yes, we did just get ready for you and we're still ready. We literally have everything a newborn baby could possibly need. We're just missing the baby. So how are we supposed to "get ready" and prepare for your baby sister, when nothing needs done? It's just another challenge on my heart.

The decision to redo your nursery didn't come lightly. Why take apart a perfectly beautiful nursery, decorated and put together with so much love, so many dreams, so many hopes? A nursery that has never been used. But it was made for YOU, baby Stella, and you aren't coming home to use it. Doesn't your baby sister deserve her own perfectly beautiful nursery, designed just for her? We decided yes, she does. And with your help and guidance, we moved everything out and got it ready to paint. It was difficult and bittersweet, but we felt we were doing the right thing. Then, the last thing your daddy did was take your name off the wall. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. It's over. It's really over. You're gone, you're never coming back. The nursery is no longer yours. I obviously know you've been gone, but taking your name off the wall just seemed so final. So, "time to move on," just like that. But you'll always be our first baby girl. It was always your nursery first. Thanks for letting us share it with your sister.

Then today we decided to go to Buy Buy Baby. I used to LOVE going to there while pregnant with you. We had some coupons, and I thought let's just go find some stuff to buy for your baby sister. Again, we need nothing, but I guess I was trying to satisfy my "need" to prepare and get ready for baby girl. It turned into an uncomfortable trip. We wandered around trying to force ourselves to buy things we don't really need, while trying to avoid the sales people asking us about our registry (which we obviously don't have, because we don't NEED ANYTHING). By the time we left, with nothing, I was in tears. What's the point? We don't need anything. And if we do, we don't know what, because we've never had a living baby before. And then my mind goes to the darkest place of all…we shouldn't buy anything more, because what if this baby dies too.

29 weeks pregnant. 8 weeks left. 59 days to go. We pray for peace, courage, and strength to make it that far.

Stella's perfect nursery

Baby girl's nursery-on it's way to perfect

10 months

As I laid in bed this morning, wondering how the last 10 months have happened the way they have, baby girl was rolling and jumping all about. As if to say, "I know what day it is mommy, and I know you're sad, but I'm here and I'm alive and well." And hopefully in just 80 short days, our lives won't feel like they are constantly on the verge of falling apart, again. Maybe in 80 days, the hole in our hearts won't be quite so deep. Maybe.

I have such a hard time believing our life is what it is. In the last 10 months, we have been forced to learn how to live without our first baby girl. We are still learning how to live without her. I feel like we will spend the rest of our lives learning how to keep going, how to keep surviving with this hole in our hearts and this void in our lives.  I feel like I'm always on the verge of a meltdown, on the verge of losing it, just trying to keep it together. Like any little thing might send me back into the deep dark hole. And a lot of the time, I just feel like I'm faking it. Faking that I'm ok, that life is ok. It's a wear out, a wear out I've lived with for 10 months, that I'll just have to keep living with. Our lives are so different. So different from what they used to be, from what I imagined they would be. And so very different from our close friends and family.  It hurts hearts my heart to realize this, but it's just another thing we can't change, that we just have to keep learning to live with.

One thing I do know, I would not have survived the last 10 months of this heartbreaking journey without my husband, without Stella's daddy. It's difficult to feel blessed when your world has turned upside down with tragedy, but I am blessed. Blessed beyond belief for having the husband I do. Many marriages don't survive the loss of a child. I think the divorce rate is close to 80% for couples who have lost a child. But I can honestly say, our marriage has never been better and our love has never been stronger.

Help us to continue on this journey without you, baby Stella. Help us to work on making a difference in the lives of others this happens to. Help us make you proud, while we hold your memory close to our hearts, and plan your memorial golf tournament. And especially help us bring your baby sister into this world alive. We want to know what a 10 month old baby girl is like. We need to know what it's like to be parents to a living baby girl, too.

Were you helping your baby sister say hello with a rainbow? Rainbow from our viewing deck. We love both of you baby girls.

My least favorite question-6 months pregnant

"Is it your first?" Makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs, "NO, my first should be almost 10 months old, but she died 11 days before her due date. They don't know why. She was absolutely perfect. Her poor precious little heart just stopped beating for no reason! So, this is my SECOND. My second baby. My second daughter." But, somehow I don't feel like the waitress at the restaurant or the teller at the bank really need to know or hear this entire story that is my life. But, on the other hand, saying, "yes, this is our first" is a blatant lie and one I just can't stand to tell. I imagined this would be a difficult spot in this pregnancy, and it most certainly is. I don't feel the need to tell my story to every single person I meet, yet I feel like I'm betraying Stella if I don't tell the story. Needless to say, I'll be glad when I don't have to answer that question anymore. Of course, then I'm sure there will be something else. Something else that makes me uncomfortable. Like people assuming I've only got the one child, the one baby. When really, our life will never look complete again. We will always and forever be missing one. Our first one.

I'm 24 weeks pregnant today. 6 months exactly. And there are exactly 3 months left until we get to meet this new bundle of joy. Our rainbow baby. She, yes that's correct, SHE is officially scheduled to arrive Tuesday, November 25th at 7:30 A.M. I am anxiously expecting that Tuesday to be the best day of my life. High expectations, I know. November 25th, 2014 is exactly one year from the day we buried baby Stella. November 25th, 2013 was the second worst day of our lives as we laid our first baby girl to rest. November 25th, 2014 will be drastically different, as we welcome our anxiously awaited for, second baby girl. Pretty bittersweet birthday for this little girl. Thank you baby Stella for sending her to us. Thank you for making a day that we will always hold dear to our hearts even sweeter.

92 days left until the best day of my life, God willing. But who's counting?

9 months

39 Wednesdays ago our perfect world was still in tact. 39 Wednesdays ago our perfect world turned upside down before our very eyes. 39 weeks. Baby Stella, you have officially been gone from our lives longer than you were here in our lives. That seems impossible. But, even though you are physically "gone" from our lives, you are still very much with us all day, everyday. We are who we are because of you. I know I've said this a million times before and I'll probably say it for the rest of my life…but, not a single day goes by that we don't think about you, that we don't talk about you, that we don't talk to you, and that we don't miss you with all our hearts and beyond our human understanding. You are still our daughter. Our first baby girl. Our everything.

There have been over 6,000 views to this blog since I started it back in December 2013. I know a great deal of family and friends read the blog, and thank you so very much for those of you reading. I've been told it's the best way for those that truly care about us to know how we're truly doing, how our hearts are truly holding up. I couldn't agree more. We have definitely learned who our true friends and closest family are through this tragedy. As I know there are many that don't read the blog, they think it's  just too sad, too depressing. Well, that's an understatement. It's our sad, depressing life. But we wouldn't be where we are in our healing without those of you willing to read, willing to care. So, once again, thank you. Also 6,000 views seems like a lot to just be family and friends. So if there are any other mothers or families out there suffering through this same lifelong, unbearable pain, I hope this blog has helped you, as reading others blogs in the early days helped me. I hope it has helped you to at least know you are not alone on this heartbreaking journey.

Always waiting...

... For the other shoe to drop. This baby might be the only one we get, if we're actually lucky enough to get it here alive. The anxiety that comes along with this pregnancy thing, after having your perfectly healthy baby die for no reason, is almost too much for me. Too much for your daddy. Just too damn much. Things can be going along just fine. No pain, no problems, no issues. Then it's time for another routine doctors appointment and the anxiety slowly starts setting in.

First, it's excitement that we get to go back to the doctor, check on the baby, see it, and make sure all is well. Then the night before the appointment, there isn't much sleep. Then the morning of, you can't get to the doctors office early enough, fast enough. And then the worst part, the waiting room. Hurry up and wait. Let the anxiety build. Then you're expecting an ultrasound and almost fly through the roof when they tell you they don't think you have one scheduled today. I'm sorry, what?! I'm not leaving here without SEEING my baby and it's heart beating. So, into the ultrasound room you go, and we thought the waiting room was bad...the ultrasound room is like a torture chamber. This is the dark, quiet room, where you are sure your world is going to come crashing down... again. But thankfully, you see baby, you see baby's heart beating away. And almost all is right with the world once again. Almost. Until the next thing to worry about pops up or just the next routine doctors appointment.

I wish with all my heart, that I could be a normal pregnant person. I wish we could be normal, excited parents-to-be. I wish our first baby girl wasn't dead. I wish we weren't always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I could spend the rest of my life wishing we were normal, but that simply cannot be. Our lives are not normal. Normal parents aren't always missing their first born baby. We will miss her until the day we die. Normal parents don't fear being pregnant and getting to bring life into this world. We will forever fear pregnancy, this one and any other one we are blessed with, until the end of time.

Although we're exhausted from the anxiety, and ever present grief, it was a great doctors appointment and baby is doing wonderful. In even better news, they let us schedule our c-section for 37 weeks exactly. Hey, the earlier we can safely get this rainbow baby in our arms, the better! Making Monday, November 24th the official birthdate. I don't have to say "is it December yet?!" But instead, is it November yet?! Baby can share a birthday month with big sister. You don't mind do you, baby Stella? 

And best of all, I lost another Monday. Only 16 left now!

18 more Mondays

As of today, I'm officially halfway through this pregnancy. Our rainbow baby has been baking for 19 weeks, and since I'll deliver at 38 weeks at the very latest, we literally only have 19 weeks left.... At the very most. It's hard to believe we're half way through, but it's even harder to believe I still have 19 long weeks left. How am I ever going to make it that much longer?! Because even though we are halfway through, we didn't even know we were pregnant those first 4 weeks, so we've only known I was pregnant for 15 weeks, meaning I literally have more time left in this pregnancy than we've gone through thus far!! That's so much time. So instead of thinking of it like that, I'm going to try to get my crazy, anxious mind to think a little differently. Since I'm apparently into counting weeks, to say I only have 18 Mondays left, at the most, sounds more like something I can handle. Only 18 more Mondays until it's Monday, December 1st. That glorious Monday, that we are so anxiously awaiting. Can we make it 18 more Mondays? As if we have a choice. Baby has been moving a lot lately and we've been able to feel her daily since about 17 weeks, even daddy. It's the best feeling in the world, feeling the life growing inside of you. And very reassuring too. We get to say, "well, we know baby's still alive, at least right now." Keep it up baby.

You've been making yourself present a lot lately, baby Stella, and we much appreciate it. The other day when I tried to wear a different necklace besides yours to work, you certainly let me know how you felt about that. It took about all I had to even put on another necklace and it almost made me sick. Everything just felt off. Shortly after I put the other necklace on, I almost fell down putting my wedges on, almost put the garage door down on my car while driving out of the garage, and ran a red light on my way to work. Thankfully, I was rattled enough before leaving the house, I had gone back inside and grabbed your necklace, which I immediately put back on when I barely arrived safely at work. Yes, I'm aware it's just a necklace, but it somehow makes me feel closer to you and like I'm always carrying a part of you with me. After telling your daddy about my morning, he said, "all of this happened while you were not wearing Stella's necklace? Then, put the necklace back on!!" Love him. We've seen the date November 6th a few times on a few different things. I see 9:41 and 11:06 on the clock every single day. At least one of them, at least once a day, if not both times, both day and night.

Gosh, we love you baby girl. It's such an amazing feeling of peace to know you're near, watching over us and your baby sibling. Baby Stella, help us survive 18 more Mondays, until we meet our rainbow.

8 months

8 months ago today, a wall of darkness fell on our family, like nothing we've ever experienced. The aching grief that followed in the days and weeks that passed, was relentless on everyone. How we are all still standing is amazing to me. It's amazing to me to have watched our family come together in the most heart wrenching and challenging times. To love one another, to appreciate one another, and to be thankful for all that we still have. 5 months after losing you, baby girl, the darkest of clouds finally started to lift. The day we learned we were pregnant with your baby sibling. The day an ounce of hope returned to our lives. A ray of light finally broke through the darkness. Thank you for blessing us with this truly special gift, getting to carry and grow your baby sibling. With a great deal of faith and a lot of hope in our hearts, we so anxiously await their arrival. 

It's hard to believe you have been gone almost as long as you were here alive with us. How could that be? These milestones of what "should be" don't get any easier. The pain is still very present each and everyday, but it's especially raw on the 6th of each month. I know you would be a beautiful 8 month old baby. Probably laughing, trying to talk, and crawl. My heart cannot explain how much we miss you and how much we miss all the things we should be teaching you and watching you do. As you know, we pray every night that we get to have all the experiences with your sibling that we were cheated out of having with you.

I can say that losing you, baby Stella, has given us a much greater appreciation of this life than we ever could have imagined. Our family has never been closer. Our relationships with one another have never been stronger. Our love has never been so unconditional. It's weird and bittersweet, but your daddy and I are better together, than we could have ever been without losing you. We will be better, more patient, more understanding, more appreciative parents someday (God willing), thanks to you. Life is precious, life is fragile, and life is not to be taken for granted. You have taught us that, and for that, we are very thankful.

We love you, Stella St. Clair. More and more every single day. Though you cannot be here on earth with us, you are still with us. And you play such an important role in our lives. Thank you.  

I can't wait

Miss you baby girl. Can't wait to be a mother to your living baby sibling.

Father's Day

Another "happy holiday" for most. Your daddy misses you baby girl, but he is proud of you. He is so proud of you and all the wonderful work you are doing in Heaven, simply because you can't be here on earth with us. Even though this isn't the Father's Day we pictured, he's still your daddy and he couldn't be happier to call you his first baby girl.

Pregnancy after loss

I knew being pregnant again after losing Stella wasn't going to be easy. I knew it was going to be a mental and emotional challenge. But, I can't say I was prepared for just how difficult it truly is. Not that anything could have prepared us. We want a family. We need a baby. Bad enough to put ourselves through another 40 long weeks, waiting for a baby, with no guarantees.

We've recently learned of several family friends that are also pregnant. Some of them are even due on the exact same day, December 15th. My first reaction, is wow that's neat and kinda crazy. My second thought, is that I seriously doubt any of those mothers are praying specifically for their baby to arrive alive. I doubt any of those mothers believe that their baby's heart could just stop beating any minute, for no known reason at all. I doubt any of those mothers wake up in a panic, wondering if their baby is still alive. We'll all be 14 weeks on Monday, once again "in the clear" in all their minds. Not mine. Not in my mind. I'm left here, a panicked nutcase. And lastly, I doubt any of those mothers already have a dead daughter. Yes, losing Stella has made me certifiably crazy.

It's amazing how fast my feelings go from excitement to dread and back again. Many times an hour. After a good doctors appointment, I'm usually good for about a week. Feeling positive and peaceful. Like this might actually be my rainbow baby. That December 1st, 2014 might truly be the best the day of my life. That this Christmas will be a much brighter, beautiful celebration of life. And then… then the fear creeps back in with a vengeance. The fear that this baby's heart is going to stop beating too. Anytime, for no reason. Maybe it already stopped beating, and I just don't know it yet. That it's all just too good to be true. Last time Mark asked when our next doctors appointment was, I answered, "not until July 1st, the baby will surely be dead by then." He laughed, we laughed, until we almost cried. This is our life. This is what it looks like, what it feels like. It's not pretty. But this is our reality. This is pregnancy after loss, late loss. Stillbirth. 

And so we pray. A lot. We pray every morning and every night. And even sometimes in the middle of the day. We pray for peace. We pray for strength. We pray for hope, and for better days to come. And most specifically for this baby to arrive alive. Because, you will literally find me locked away in a mental institution if this isn't my rainbow baby.

Thank you baby Stella for all you've done so far, keep up the good work, my beautiful baby girl.

7 months

It's hard to believe you should be 7 months old. And instead I'm 3 months pregnant. How fun and crazy would life be if you were here, 7 months old, AND I was 3 months pregnant. Now that would have been special.

I do hope you have enjoyed your 7 months in Heaven, baby girl. You sure have been busy up there by helping us down here. You have graced us with as much strength as you can, the strength to get up and live each day, while learning to live without you, and loving each other more than we thought possible. You have given us the ability to know how precious this life is, and that since tomorrow isn't guaranteed, to live for today. You have given us the guidance to keep believing, believing in God and better days to come. And best of all, you have blessed us with your baby sibling on the way. Thank you, baby Stella. Thank you for all your hard work these past 7 months in answering our many endless prayers.

As we continue to pray to you, we pray you give us the strength, courage, and peace to handle and embrace whatever is headed our way in the coming weeks, and hopefully months. We love you baby Stella St. Clair and we miss you just as much today as we did the day we lost you.

Waiting for our RAINBOW, guided by our STAR

Well, the title says it all. We are anxiously, excitedly, cautiously waiting for our rainbow baby. Our take home baby. The one that makes it into this world alive. To live here on earth with us. Your sibling, baby Stella. The baby that your daddy says, "better arrive alive, live a long life, and bury us someday."

As I type this, we are 12 weeks and 1 day pregnant. We saw the baby's precious heart beat for the third time this morning. While it feels unreal we are this far along on this new journey, it feels like we still have a lifetime left. Hopefully 26 weeks left, to be exact. As the plan will be to deliver this baby by repeat c-section no later than 38 weeks (God willing, we make it that far). Mostly because, we will have reached full term by then and in our unfortunate experience, babies hearts' randomly stop beating at 38 weeks and 3 days, for no apparent reason. And we just cannot go there again. 

For "normal, lucky" people 12 weeks would be pretty much considered "in the clear." Unfortunately, we are not "normal or lucky," and we are certainly not "in the clear." We will not be in the clear until this baby is alive in our arms, kicking and screaming. Then of course, all the mothers out there would say, then there will be a whole new set of worries and concerns that never ends. Well, that's just great…bring on those NORMAL mother worries. Not the LOSS mother worries, like that this baby might die inside of me too. 

The post below this one contains a few of my writings from April, when we first found out. Most of the thoughts, feelings, and pleading prayers still apply. 

Stella's sibling today: 12 weeks, 1 day

Stella St. Clair, May 2013: 12 weeks, 2 days

Love both of you babies, more than anything in this world. Guide us baby Stella, guide us to your sibling's birth. 

A few delayed posts : )

Saturday: 04-12-14

On April 5th, the day before we should have been celebrating your 5 months here on earth, we learned we are pregnant again, with your baby sibling. Lord help me, if these isn't our rainbow baby. We are obviously cautiously excited and beyond terrified. We pray that with your guidance, baby Stella, we will have the strength, peace, and courage to survive whatever is headed our way in the coming days, weeks, and hopefully months.

In the one short week I've been pregnant so far, my emotions have been all over the place. Thrilled. Terrified. Excited. Nervous. Peaceful. Anxious. Part of me believes we are due for some good luck, and this time it's going to work out. We are going to get our take home baby, because we deserve it. The other part doesn't believe anything will work out, that something terrible is going to happen. Because I know terrible things happen. They've happened to us. People lose babies. Babies die. Whether it's early in the pregnancy or at full term, like you sweet baby girl. I've also had to fight back the feeling that I'm betraying you baby Stella by moving forward with our family and attempting to be excited for another baby. I have to try to believe that cannot be possible. We would never betray you. You know what you mean to us. Everything. And I believe you helped us create this new baby. You want us to find joy again through creating, loving, and raising your siblings. I know this in my heart. So, hopefully I can shake the feeling of betraying you when I feel glad about this new adventure. This new adventure, that feels like deja vu. Feels like yesterday we were just cautiously excited to be pregnant with you. I just stopped drinking wine and eating sushi for you. I was drinking orange juice with vitamin D for you. I was tired and felt icky for you. But no, this is different. This is new. And this time, we have you, our angel baby, guiding us through.

In my mind, I know I might not get to keep this baby for very long. But in my heart, I'm going to try to enjoy everyday that I do have growing this baby. I'm going to try to live each day knowing "today I am pregnant." I don't know what tomorrow brings, but I can't control it anyway. "Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength."

Regardless of my ever changing emotions, it's going to be a damn long 9 months, if we even get 9 months. God willing.

Waiting for our RAINBOW, guided by our STAR. We love you baby girl. Always and forever.

Wednesday: 04-16-14

Happy. Hopeful. Like I have a purpose. Feelings I wasn't sure even existed anymore. But, somehow, someway…there is a part of me that feels happy. I don't even know how to react to this feeling. And it actually makes me scared. How sad that I am literally afraid to feel happy. Of course, I know why I am afraid. Because I know, with memories so fresh, just how fast happiness can turn into utter despair and pure, heart wrenching agony.  I know that in an instant, joy can be ripped from your life, leaving you empty, lonely, and without purpose.

And another unfortunate side effect of this new found happiness is missing you, baby Stella, even more. Because I know my new found peace is because your sibling is finally on it's way. And while I'm anxiously excited for this baby to arrive alive, I miss you, baby girl. It's going to be a long, hard road. Because, God willing, this baby does arrive alive. And then, then I will have a flood of emotions comparing him or her to you. Comparing all the things I'll never know about you. That's not fair to you. And that's not fair to your sibling.  I can't help but secretly wish this baby was you. I know that doesn't make any sense and I know I can never have you back. And you can obviously never be replaced. And once again, that's not fair to this baby. Because, trust me, I want this baby just as badly as I wanted you. And you are definitely separate, different, perfect babies. Our babies. I already can't help but comparing this pregnancy to yours. I just hope I get at least as much time with this baby as I got with you. I hope for even more time, obviously. But I know being "happy" about this baby doesn't guarantee I'll get any more time with it than whatever God decides. So we'll just keep going, one day a time. One hour at a time. Whatever it takes. We'll just keep praying, having faith, and simply believing.

Your daddy and I love you, baby girl. And your sibling too.

Friday: 04-25-14

Well, thank you God and thank you baby Stella. There is a baby and there is a heartbeat. 116 beats per minute, at 6 weeks and 4 days. I can't even explain the feeling of seeing that little heart fluttering on the screen. It was beyond bittersweet, something we will never again take for granted. It is hard to believe the last time we had an ultrasound, it was November 6th, when we learned your precious little heart was no longer beating. To say the anticipation for this appointment today was anxiety filled, would be an understatement. There were moments when I thought I might reach a full blown panic attack. But you were there. You were with us all day, and especially during that ultrasound. Your baby siblings heartbeat was 116. What else is 1-1-6? Your birthdate, baby Stella. 11-6. Thank you. Thank you for helping your baby siblings heart beat, and showing us you were there with us every step of the way. 

And now, between the ever-present grief, anxiety, and new found peace, I'm exhausted. I feel like drinking a huge glass of wine, but I'll obviously refrain. And the next time I drink a huge glass of wine, I had better be holding this baby in my arms while doing so. 

While it truly feels great to reach this amazing milestone, I know we are not in the clear. Unfortunately, I know we will never be in the clear, until your sibling is crying in my arms. We feel blessed to have achieved the unachievable, to be carrying precious cargo, once again. But our pregnancy innocence is gone. We also know the real blessing will come once this baby arrives alive. God willing.

One day at a time. We will walk this journey, with God and Stella by our side, one day at a time.